


The Ritual

by Words_of_Heresy



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Mpreg, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-10-13 04:55:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10506702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Words_of_Heresy/pseuds/Words_of_Heresy
Summary: * This fiction is a mismatch of the movie verse/ the book and my original ideas.When Jack invites Ralph and Piggy to the new camp he's suddenly struck ill. Ralph decides to stay with the new clan in order to help Jack recover. However none of the boys are aware that Jack, being the oldest, is experiencing his first heat; until it triggers Ralph's.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *More pairings in the future.  
> ** Also I followed the actors appearance in the movie version for this story. Why? Because Jack is a fuckboy ;)

Ralph heard the hollering long before he caught sight of the bright orange against the night sky. The flame weaved delicately on the evening breeze, casting shadows on the yellow sand. In the hallo of warm light, bony figures skipped manically in a circle, waving spears above their heads – shaking with wild energy.  
“Should we really be here?” asked Piggy, gently bumping his shoulder against Ralphs’.  
“I don’t know if we should, but we have to Piggy. We can’t show weakness.”  
“But what if Jack looses it again?” Piggy’s voice sounded pitifully whinging. Ralph blinked to avoid rolling his eyes.  
“If he does I’ll protect you, alright?” Piggy seemed to think on this a minute, but must have come to the wise conclusion that his chances with Ralph by his side were far better.  
“Ok Ralph.”  
They approached the camp and Sam and Eric were the first to see them coming. They hollered like a couple of Indians, alerting the rest of the clan of their arrival. Jack stepped forward from behind Roger, a piece of charred meat in one hand and his spear in the other.  
“Decided to join us have you?” he laughed and swung his arms wide in welcome. “Can’t blame you really, must be cold and hungry on your end, eh Ralph?” Ralph noticed that Jack forwent wearing pants all together, choosing instead to slather his arms and legs in stripes of blood and dirt. He had a makeshift loincloth fashioned out of his old underwear that he similarly dirtied to blend better with the rest of his painted skin. His face too was painted; the dark soot smeared around his eyes gave them a predatory look – like the eyes of a panther. Jack took a bite of meat.  
“Luke,” he said, turning to address one of the two boys behind him, cutting away at the pig’s carcass, “take them some meat.” He turned back to face Ralph.  
“I promised I’d get meat,” he barked suddenly, “didn’t I Ralph?” Although he was clearly trying to establish dominance, Ralph thought he sounded desperate for approval, a kind word or a gesture of acknowledgment from his best friend. It has always been that way between them, Jack attempting to take control but in the end always deferring to Ralph.  
The first day Jack arrived at the Academy, Ralph was tasked with showing him around campus. That night, after dinner, Jack asked Ralph if he could board with him.  
“No,” replied Ralph, “we don’t get to choose who we room with, that’s up to the heads and the facilitators.”  
Jack was assigned to share with Sebastian Hart. The following morning, breakfast gossip revealed that Sebastian was in the infirmary, and Jack was confined to solitary confinement for the rest of the weekend.  
“I was helping out in the infirmary during recess,” Simon told Ralph and Piggy over lunch, “he’s got a broken nose and one hell of a shiner.  
The following week Jack was placed with Adrian Shaw. That night a commotion broke out in the dead of night, and Ralph heard several sets of heavy military boots race down the hall in the direction of Jack’s room. In the morning Adrian was nowhere to be found, and Jack was missing from breakfast.  
“I heard he stabbed Adrian in his sleep,” Piggy whispered to Ralph as they walked from English to Music. “Stabbed him dead.”  
Ralph doubted anything so extreme could have taken place at the school without the police getting involved, or even the school shutting down.  
“I don’t think so Piggy.”  
While standing in line for dinner Sam and Eric, the twins, told Ralph that Jack was in solitary again, but was due to be released the following day. Apparently he was forced to see the school psychologist and the two of them came to some sort of agreement.  
“Agreement about what?”  
The twins shrugged and walked away. Ralph grabbed his tray and went to sit with Simon and Piggy.  
The agreement became apparent the next morning when Jack was escorted into Ralph’s room just as he was ready to leave for breakfast. The prefect escort gave Ralph an apologetic look before quickly exiting the room and shutting the door behind him.  
“Hello,” said Jack, and rolled his luggage to the opposite bed from Ralphs’. He looked around with somewhat put upon interest at the utilitarian curtains and beige carpeting. Their eyes met and Jack grinned. “Looks like we’re rooming,” he winked, spread his arms out and fell on the bed.  
“I want you to tell the littluns that I made you a promise and I kept it!” Ralph snapped out of his reverie and met Jack’s challenging glare head on.  
“You’ve kept your promise but you didn’t keep the fire watch. You think one lousy meal is worth not getting rescued? We need to be one group again?  
“I agree, you can join my camp and have all the meat you want.”  
“We don’t want your meat,” but Ralphs’ point was somewhat undermined by Piggy stuffing his face beside him.  
“Oh yeah? I can see that,” laughed Jack, “Then why’d you come here?”  
“We came here to try an talk some sense to you.”  
“You don’t have the conch,” said little Mike, “it doesn’t matter what you say!”  
“The conch is at our camp where it belongs,” shouted Piggy, placing one hand on Ralph’s shoulder. Jack’s eyes, which until that moment remained sharply focused on Ralphs’, relocated to Piggy’s hand and narrowed dangerously.  
“What’s the matter tits,” Jack spat the words like an angry snake, “were you afraid of bringing it with you?” In a blink he rounded the fire and slapped Piggy’s hand off Ralph’s shoulder. “Well the conch doesn’t count anymore Miss Piggy Tits,” he shoved him hard in the chest, “nobodies interested in hearing you speak.”  
“Stop that,” yelled Ralph when it looked like Jack might sucker punch Piggy in the face. He grabbed Jack’s shoulder and pushed him away. Their eyes met, and for a moment Ralph thought he saw something like betrayal. Then Jack shoved him.  
“Nobodies interested in you and your fucking conch, why don’t you take your fat friend and…” Suddenly Jack’s face paled, his eyes grew wide and his pupils dilated. He gasped, body swaying, and with one startled look at Ralph he fell. The shallow water sprayed over the fire making it spit and hiss like a disgruntled cat. Ralph watched this play out as if it were happening in a dream. He thought he tried to reach for Jack as he fell, but must have missed him. The next moment he was on his knees trying to revive Jack while all around him boys of all ages where screaming and shouting in anger and confusion. It wasn’t long before accusations began to fly.  
“It was Piggy,” swore little Mike, “I saw him stab Jack with something right before he went down!”  
“I didn’t do it!” screamed Piggy, as several boys approached him, spears raised. “I swear!”  
“Then who did Pig?” yelled Roger and raised his spear, only to be intercepted by Ralph.  
“It wasn’t Piggy,” said Ralph, lowering the captured spear.  
“Of course you’ll take his side,” spat Roger and wrenched his spear free.  
“I’m not taking any sides because there aren’t sides to take. Jack collapsed from a fever, he’s sick.”  
Roger and the other boys exchanged glances.  
“Don’t believe me fine! Put your hand on his forehead. He’s burning up!”  
Roger shot another suspicious look at Piggy before kneeling in the water and placing his palm on Jack.  
“He’s hot,” he finally said.  
“You see! We need to get him dry and into a tent.”  
“We’ll do it,” said Roger, rising from the water and facing Ralph. “I don’t trust you. You’re not clan.”  
“I’m not leaving,” said Ralph, “and didn’t Jack just ask me to join your clan a minute ago?”  
“You refused.”  
“Well now things have changed and I temporarily accept,” said Ralph, raising his arm when Piggy attempted to interject. “Only until he gets better Piggy. I can’t let him die,” he said turning to face the bespectacled boy, “he’s my best friend.” Piggy frowned, but eventually nodded and looked away. Ralph addressed Roger who was lifting Jack out of the water. “He’ll need a dry warm shelter, a few coconuts of water and some clean rags. I’ll stay with him, and I need Simon, he knows first aid.”  
“Where am I gonna find that little fairy at this time of the night?” swore Roger. Just then the lime green light of the glow stick appeared on the horizon.  
“It’s the monster,” screamed James, the young lad who first stumbled on the beast in the cave. The other boys raised their spears and began to jump up and down making hooting noises. Ralph attempted to speak over them but it was Piggy who eventually broke through the noise and ordered silence.  
“Everyone, listen to me” said Ralph, exchanging a grateful look with Piggy when all the boys turned towards him. “Lower your spears. It’s not a monster, it’s Simon running here with that damn glow stick.”  
“How can you be sure?” asked Roger.  
“Come on Roger, you’re too old to believe in fairy tales. There’s no such thing as monsters and you know it.” Roger frowned.  
“Jack said there are.”  
“He was messing with you. Look now that he’s gotten closer you can see it’s Simon.” Ralph pointed and sure enough a small, naked boy, save for a pair of dirty shorts, was approaching the camp – waving the glow stick in front of him like a sword. When Simon reached the fire, the other boys quickly lowered their spears. Ralph noticed tear tracks on Simon’s face and immediately ran around the fire to grab him by the shoulders.  
“Simon, are you ok? What happened?”  
“I found him Ralph, I found him.”  
“Found who?”  
“The Captain.”  
“The Captain drowned Simon, we found his clothe remember?” Ralph quarried gently.  
“No,” Simon shook his head violently and dropped the glow stick, “he was hiding in a cave. He’s dead Ralph,” Simon whispered and started crying again. Ralph quickly pulled him into a hug, rubbing both hands firmly against his back. After a few minutes of hysterical crying Simon muttered against Ralph’s shoulder. “He was murdered, stabbed in the chest,” Simon shot a nervous glance over Ralphs’ shoulder, “with a spear.”  
“I’m sorry Simon,” he said, stroking his fingers through the curly locks. “There’s nothing we can do tonight, it’s too dark to go back out there, but I promise you tomorrow morning Piggy and I will come with you, and together we can give Captain Benson a proper burial, ok?” Simon nodded against his neck but said nothing, he was still watching the other boys cautiously, and they in turn watched him.  
“I don’t want to be alone with them,” he whispered into Ralph’s ear, “please don’t leave me alone with them.”  
“I won’t, I promise,” said Ralph, “but right now I need your help. Jack’s sick, he’s got a fever and he’s unconscious. I need your help or he might die too.”  
Simon nodded and stepped away from Ralph.  
“Where is he?” Ralph pointed at a makeshift tent made from palm tree leaves. Simon started towards it, but Roger stepped in front of him and shoved him down.  
“Where do you think you’re going fairy fruit,” he smirked when Simon overbalanced and fell on his bum. “You’re not clan, what makes you think you’re allowed anywhere near our chief?”  
“If you want Jack to get better I need his help Roger, he’s the only one who has experience with medicine.” Ralph ran up to Simon and helped him up before getting in between him and Roger and shoving the taller boy in the chest. Roger stumbled but didn’t fall. “If you don’t remember, Simon’s father was the school medic, and Simon was always helping him out in the infirmary during breaks and on weekends.”  
“So what?”  
“So, you giant ignoramus,” said Piggy walking up to Simon and putting a hand on his shoulder, “he’ll be a lot more help in there than you.” Roger appeared to think over the sentence, perhaps analysing it for any potential insults he could use to justify punching Piggy’s nose in. He must have come up blank because a minute later he stepped aside and scratched his head, keeping mean little eyes focused on Piggy.  
“Fine them two go in, you Miss Piggy will stay out here with me, under my personal supervision,” he smirked. Piggy clenched his fists and attempted to look brave but Ralph could see he was nervous.  
“If anything happens to him while I’m in there Roger, anything at all – I will personally beat the living daylight out of you.” Ralph and Roger exchanged challenging glares for a long moment until Roger finally dropped his gaze. Smart move. Although Roger was bigger and broader than Ralph, Ralph was older and had been attending the military academy for years, while Roger only arrived a year earlier. Ralph was conditioned to fight and withstand pain; Roger relied on his size and attitude to deter people. “In fact,” Ralph said, “while Simon and I are working on helping Jack I want you to find Piggy a nice warm place by the fire and give him all the pork he can eat.” Roger lifted his glare, but Ralph was already entering the tent with Simon. “That’s an order,” he called out as the palm leaf door fell back into place behind him.

 

* * *

 

Jack was lying on a makeshift bed, elevated on a mound of sand covered in banana leaves. He was naked but dry. Ralph thought Roger must have used some of the rags that remained of their torn clothe to dry him best he could. On closer inspection he noticed beads of sweat glistening on Jack’s face and collarbone like tiny drops of glitter.  
“He’s burning up,” said Simon, one hand pressing against Jack’s forehead. He slid it down to rest on his neck. “And his heart rate is fast.”  
“Do you know what that means?” Simon shook his head.  
“I need more information before I can make that call. It could be anything from these symptoms; heat stroke, poison, or just a cold.”  
“What do you need?” asked Ralph kneeling beside him.  
“What was he doing before he collapsed?”  
“He was arguing with me, and stuffing his face with pork.”  
“What were you arguing about?”  
“I don’t know,” sighed Ralph, “is it important?” Simon shrugged.  
“Maybe. Did anything else happen?”  
“Yeah, he shoved Piggy and I shoved him. Then he gasped, swayed and collapsed in the water.” Ralph glanced at Simon; he was staring at Jack, his brow creased in concentration like he was trying to decipher a puzzle without any clues. Finally he lifted his gaze to Ralphs’.  
“I’m sorry Ralph, I don’t have enough information. We’ll just have to monitor him for a few days to see what else changes. Meanwhile we need to keep his fever down.” As if on cue there was an awkward tap on the palm leaf door.  
“Excuse me,” said a squeaky, young voice, “I’ve got the supplies you asked for. Can I come in?”  
“No,” said Ralph, knowing Jack wouldn’t appreciate the other boys seeing him in this frail state. “I’ll come out and grab them. Wait there.” He got up and exited the tent.  
Outside the fire was dying down. Dinner was over and the pig carcass was nowhere in sight. Boys lay scattered around the dying flame, sleeping, chatting, using sticks to play games in the sand or simply sitting cross-legged in small circles and swapping stories. Ralph spotted Piggy sitting by the fire in his underwear, hanging wet clothe on a drying rack he crudely fashioned from sticks. One of the younger choir boys from his school, Harold perhaps, or Henry, stood next to the tent. In his hands he held a long, flat, piece of bark like a serving tray. On it stood two coconuts full of water and several folded, grey rags cut from school trousers.  
“Will you need anything else sir,” asked the boy, one eye concealed by a curtain of curly hair. Ralph took the tray and turned back to the tent.  
“No that will be all,” he said stepping back inside. Simon was waiting, and the moment he saw Ralph emerge with supplies, he got up and grabbed a coconut and rag before the other could so much as find a place for the tray. By the time Ralph had the supplies stored, Simon was mopping Jack’s face with a wet rag. Gently wiping away the blood, dirt and grime.  
“Someone will have to stay with him tonight and keep watch,” said Simon, finishing off the face and starting on the collarbone. “If he gets hotter, or he becomes delusional we might need to get him in the water to lower his temperature.”  
“I’ll stay with him.”  
“You can’t watch all night, you need to sleep to,” Simon finished wiping down Jack. He took another coconut and a clean rag, soaked the fabric in the water, wrung it dry and then placed it, folded like a belt, over Jack’s forehead. “You can keep first watch, then I will take over and you can get some sleep.”  
“Ok,” agreed Ralph.  
“I’ll sleep right outside the tent, so you don’t have to leave him alone when we swap shifts.” Ralph nodded. Simon placed the used up coconut and the dirty rag on the empty tray. Then he stood up, grabbed the tray and moved to exit the tent. Right before he left he spoke quietly.  
“Don’t worry too much Ralph, he’ll be alright. Just keep dipping that rag on his head into water every time it gets dry or hot to the touch. It’s all you can do for him anyhow,” then he left.  
Ralph settled in Simon’s place beside Jack’s head and began to cradle his fingers though the fine blonde hair. Gently tugging loose knots and dirt. Jack’s hair was soft, and it slipped between his fingers like stands of silk. Ralph shuffled until he could lean against one side of the fence, with one hand draped around Jack while the other could continue grooming his hair. The tent was filled with the sound of fluttering palm leaves and Jack’s heavy breathing. Outside the gentle crackle of burning logs began to die down and with it the chatter of children. The island slept.

 

* * *

 

  
A few hours later when the moon was beginning to journey down and the tide gently receding, Ralph woke Simon for his shift and collapsed in his place on the makeshift bedding of leaves. The leaves were warm and soft and felt better than cotton. He fell asleep immediately and the next time he woke was to the sound of arguing. Opening one eye and then the other he noticed Piggy standing above his head, leaning over him and gesticulating wildly at someone standing across from him.  
“He needs rest,” hissed Piggy between clenched teeth. “He was up all night looking after your chief.”  
“I don’t care,” replied the other, it was Roger and he sounded pissed. “I need another for the hunt. You live with the clan, you pull your weight Pig tits.”  
“Don’t call me that,” spat Piggy, and some of the spit sprayed over Ralph and landed on his chest like tiny snowflakes on overheated skin. “Ralph’s not part of your clan, he’s only here to see that Jack gets better.”  
“He’s a temporary member, that means he has to work like the rest of us.”  
“The rest of you got enough sleep to run around like wild savages. Ralph stayed awake watching Jack. I’ll go in his place, if you’re so desperate, but he’s not going!”  
“You!” Roger couldn’t have sounded more amused and Ralph didn’t blame him. Piggy was not a boy one would call athletically inclined. “You can barely keep track of your glasses, how are you going to keep up with us?”  
“Well that’s all you’re getting, take it or leave it.” Piggy clearly thought better than to argue his value in the hunt, and was instead attempting to wind-down negotiations.  
“Or I can stab you with my fucking spear, gut you and we can have pig for dinner without the hunt.” Roger took a menacing step forward, kicking sand over Ralph’s ankles. “What do you think of that Miss Piggy?” Ralph decided he better step in when Piggy made a terrified squeak, but in typical Piggy fashion held his ground.  
“Alright,” he said, sitting up and shaking loose from the leaves and sand. “I’m up, I’ll come with you on the hunt.”  
“Ralph…”  
“No it’s fine Piggy,” he turned around and gave Piggy a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. “You’re a good friend for standing up for me, but Roger has a point, we can’t expect them to cover for us if we don’t pitch in.”  
“But I…”  
“I know you want to help,” said Ralph “but maybe you would do better organizing some of the younger boys to gather firewood. You’ve got great leadership skills.” Roger snorted, but Ralph ignored him and used his hold on Piggy to turn him around and point out a cluster of younger boys sitting around the darkened fire pit. Piggy and Ralph watched as one boy got up and jumped on another boy, sending them both face down into the sand.  
“Ok,” Piggy nodded, “I’ll get those ruffians in shape for you Ralph. We’ll get more firewood than anyone, you’ll see!” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with grave determination, spun on his heels and marched off.  
“Now that you’re done babysitting can we go?” Roger drawled out, leaning against his spear. Ralph walked past him towards the forest.  
“Where are the others?” he asked.  
“Where do you think? They’ve been gone since before dawn searching out and cornering the kill.” Roger overtook him and led the way into the forest.  
“Jack taught us to start searching right before dawn, that way its easier to catch them while they’re asleep, or at least have more daylight by which to see.”  
“Jack seems to know a lot about hunting,” Ralph replied offhandedly, carefully navigating around a fallen tress.  
“He should; his father is a master huntsman. Won trophies and everything. He even gets paid taking all sorts of reach folk over to Africa – teaches them how to hunt on the Safari.”  
“He told you that?” Ralph tried to keep the surprise out of his voice.  
“Yeah, why wouldn’t he. I’m his right hand man, his lieutenant. He don’t trust anyone like he trusts me.” Roger all but grew with pride. Ralph kept quite and they continued to track in silence.  
Months before the fateful flight, Ralph asked Jack to come with him to the village on a school errand. The tiny settlement was only a short walk from the Academy, but it was a quiet walk through several fields and woodland, and conversation was needed to pass the time.  
“How come your folks dropped you off here?” asked Jack.  
“My father is a Navy lieutenant. He wants me to join the army as soon as I’m old enough, and this is the best military school in the country,” replied Ralph.  
“Is that right,” Jack didn’t sound convinced. He kicked a small pebble down the path and they watched it skitter down the dirt road and disappear out of sight. “I guess it’s strict enough,” he laughed and Ralph joined him.  
“Yeah it can be pretty tough on delicate girls like yourself,” Ralph ruffled Jack’s golden locks.  
“Hey who are you calling delicate, you midget!” Jack swatted Ralph’s hand away and placed his own on Ralph’s to give him a condescending pat on the head. Back then Ralph was still to hit his growth spurt, and was a full head shorter than Jack. He jumped away in frustration.  
“Whatever,” he muttered, suddenly embarrassed. “What are your folks like?” he attempted to change the subject. Jack took a while to reply, and at the time Ralph thought it was because speaking about his parents while being away from them was hard for him, being still fairly new at the Academy.  
“My mother is a teacher. I only met my father two years ago; he left before I was born to pursue an acting career. Now he’s a famous Hollywood actor, but I’m not allowed to say which one because he values his privacy. Still once or twice a year he comes around and takes me to amazing countries around the world. We go wherever he’s filming his next movie, and I get to meet all kinds of celebrities. Pretty girls like you won’t believe!” Jack wolf whistled.  
“Really?!” Ralph couldn’t hide his awe. A famous actor for a father, it was incredible. Although, now that Ralph thought about it, it would explain Jack remarkably good looks. Also a famous but secretive actor would likely be busy most of the year, and therefore unable to look after his son. Sending Jack to boarding school when he so clearly didn’t want to be there suddenly made a lot more sense. “That’s amazing!” Jack appeared to be blushing, although it might have been the sun warming his fair complexion.  
“Yes, I don’t tell many people because I know everyone will want to be my friend, and I won’t know who really likes me and who’s just getting friendly with me to get to my dad.” Ralph nodded.  
“I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” Jack smiled. The village came into view. Suddenly Ralph got shoved in the side, and by the time he righted himself Jack was well ahead of him, running and shouting over his shoulder.  
“Race you to the grocer!” Ralph laughed and took chase.

 

* * *

  
The other boys were unlucky that day, and by the time Roger and Ralph caught up to them they had nothing to show for that mornings’ trekking. Deciding to split the effort, Roger led half of the party east, while Ralph and Maurice took the other three boys west. Eventually they came across a black sow. She was frightened and agitated, running back and forth in front of a cluster of bushes. Although she had a clear run in either direction she refused to leave, prancing aggressively to and fro, making high pitch squealing noises and desperate grunts.  
“What’s wrong with her,” said one of the younger boys.  
“Maybe she’s diseased,” whispered another, “Like those cows I once saw on TV. They were frothing at the mouth and making noises to.” It was true, Ralph noticed, the sow had drool running in viscous streams from the corners of her mouth.  
“I don’t care what she has,” said Maurice decisively, “we need food and this is the best we’re gonna get. Raise your spears and prepare to charge on my command.” Just then something moved in the bushes, Ralph tried to see past the dense grows but couldn’t make out a shape.  
“Hold on,” he said. “There’s something else in those bushes.” The boys obediently lowered their spears. Maurice was not impressed.  
“I’m in charge of this hunt, and I say we take her down,” he said, gesturing to the others to raise their spears. They did so hesitantly.  
“Wait,” said Ralph, seeing the movement again. The sow as if noticing his gaze paced back a few steps until her bum pressed firmly into the bushes. She gave a challenging snort in Ralphs’ direction. “I think I know what’s going on. She’s guarding the bush, that’s why she won’t run. I think she’s got babies back there and she’s trying to protect them.”  
“So what?” said Maurice, “more meat for us.”  
“No, I have a better idea. We should capture her and take the babies. If we let them grow up they will breed and we will have a steady source of meat without having to hunt everyday.” Maurice snorted.  
“And where do you propose we keep them?” Ralph hadn’t thought of that, but suddenly an image of the old cave came to mind.  
“We will take them to the cave.”  
“The monster cave?” piped up one of the boys.  
“Yes, except their aren’t any monsters there. We need someone to go and find the other hunting group, then take them to the cave and remove Captain Benson’s body and the sow’s head.”  
“Why,” asked another boy, “they’re dead already.”  
“Exactly, the smell will frighten her and she will become unruly. We need to clear out the cave, lay down palm leaves and find something to use as a trough for water; a piece of bark or a dented boulder. Someone will also need to run back to our old camp and get that rope that washed ashore a few nights ago. We can use it to tie her up and carry her to the cave, the babies too.”  
“How are we going to close the cave?” asked Maurice, looking thoughtful. He seemed to have come aboard with the idea. Ralph hadn’t thought that far, and now he wasn’t sure the idea was going to work after all.  
“I know,” said Maurice after a long while, “why don’t we build a wall of rocks. Thick so she can’t root under them. Pigs can’t jump, it don’t need to be higher than we can see, but it should do the job.” Ralph nodded.  
“That’s sounds like it could work.” He looked at the other three boys. One stood out taller and broader than the others. “You,” he pointed at the boy, “will stay with me. Maurice, go find Roger and his group and tell them to go to the cave. Move the captain’s body, respectfully,” he emphasized, remembering Simon’s distress, “and get rid of the sow’s head. Then split up; have half the boys look for flat heavy rocks we can use to construct the wall, and the other half gather palm leaves to layer the floor of the cave and a trough.” Maurice nodded and darted away into the bushes. Ralph turned to face a slight fair-haired boy and his equally slight, ginger companion. “You,” he pointed at the blonde “will go back to the camp and alert the others on what happened. Find Piggy, ask him to grab a few of the choir cloaks, then tell him to head over to the cave with as many other boys as possible. I don’t think he knows the way so you better show them where to go,” the boy nodded and rushed off. Ralph turned to the ginger boy, “you need to run back to our old camp, and there you’ll find the rope I was talking about. It’s lying inside our makeshift shelter, where the survival knife used to be,” he added somewhat tersely. The boy appeared unfazed, but the bigger one guarding the sow besides Ralph tense up and shuffled around awkwardly. “Grab the rope and bring it to the cave, when you get there tell Roger and Maurice to grab a few of the stronger boys and head over here, tell them to bring the rope and the cloaks. Tell Piggy to keep the other boys building the wall and getting the cave ready. We’ll capture the sow, and carry her and the piglets to the cave. Understood?” The ginger nodded and ran off leaving Ralph and the other boy, who he discovered was called Bill, to watch the sow.

 

* * *

  
  
The plan was executed well. By the time Roger and Maurice arrived with half a dozen of the older boys in tow, the sow had worn out and was lying on the ground and watching the boys suspiciously. However at the sight of the new arrivals she quickly rolled to her feet and renewed her pacing.  
“Nice catch,” whistled Roger, “how many piglets?”  
“We don’t know,” replied Ralph, “they’re hiding under the bush.”  
“Well we better get her roped than.” Roger beckoned for Maurice to pass him the rope. “How do you want to do this?” he asked Ralph.  
“I think we best make a noose. Then we can surround her and rope her neck. We can use the rest of the rope to tie her feet, and then two of us can lift her onto a cloak and carry her back to the cave. The other cloak we’ll tie into a sack and use it to carry the piglets.” And that’s what they did. Maurice, having completed rodeo training at summer camp, fashioned a noose, and together with Ralph and Roger they managed to rope and tie up the sow. She went down screaming and trashing like mad, but with Roger holding her down and Ralph keeping her feet together, it was only a matter of minutes for Maurice to tie her legs up and roll her on to the cloak.  
As it turned out the bush was concealing seven piglets. They were tiny and loud, squirming around like ferrets. The boys quickly stuffed them into the makeshift sack. Together they spent over an hour carrying the pigs through the forest; climbing over fallen trees and stepping over rocks. By the time they got to the cave the sun was beginning to set. Piggy stood proudly, with his head held high, beside a wall as high as his shoulder. A small section to one side remained unfinished.  
“We thought we better leave that for when you come back, otherwise how are you going to get the pigs inside,” said Piggy.  
“Good thinking Piggy,” said Ralph. He and Roger lifted the sow and carried her in. Inside the cave was layered with palm leaves. A flat, decent size rock with a dip in the centre stood against the side of the cave, filled with water. While they lowered the sow, he noticed the wall was very dense, at least half a meter of stone.  
“Ok,” said Ralph, “we need to get this wall up before we can cut her loose or she will charge right through us.” The boys got into actions at once and soon the unfinished segment was well fortified. “Hand me the sack with the piglets,” Ralph shouted across the wall. The squirming cloak was gently handed across. Carefully he lowered it to the ground before untying the top and letting the fabric fall loose. The piglets appeared, stumbling about on unsure feet and squealing for their mother. The sow oinked and grunted. Ralph gestured for Roger to scale the wall.  
“Go, the moment I untie her she’s going to charge at anyone she sees. I’m going to try to get across before she gets me, but there’s no point in both of us getting injured if anything goes wrong.”  
“I can help,” Roger muttered, scratching his head and looking worried. “I can distract her or something.” Ralph shook his head.  
“It’s not going to work she’s too mad with fear, she’ll mow you down like a stack of hay. Trust me Roger, get out of here.”  
“Why can’t you just slice the ropes with the knife,” Roger produced the survival knife from his belt and tried to hand it to Ralph.  
“I can’t, we might need the full length of that rope for something else. We only have one.”  
Roger nodded, but was reluctant to go. Eventually he settled on getting to the top of the wall and sitting on the edge – ready to jump in at a moments notice. Ralph was grateful for this.  
He approached the sow cautiously loosened the noose around her neck. She remained still. He started on her back feet first freeing them quickly. The sow kicked him hard in the arm and began to thrash erratically, rolling from side to side and attempting to rise. He forced her on to her back and, taking one deep breath for courage, quickly untied her front legs, grabbed the rope and ran for the wall. Roger extended his hand and pulled him to safety just as the sow rolled to her feet and charged. They leapt off the wall to the hoots and hollers of the other boys. Ralph raised the rope triumphantly in his hand and nudged Roger companionably with his shoulder.  
“Thanks,” he said, and Roger smiled, but not quite.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some lovely reviewer asked to see more of Jack. So here's Jack :)

Jack woke up blind to the sound of dull scrapping on a hollow dish and the feel of something slimy being forced between his lips on the end of a narrow stick. He clamped his teeth down, breaking the intruder in half, and sat up so suddenly he bumped foreheads with someone.  
“Ow!” that someone muttered. The wet cloth obscuring Jack’s vision fell to the floor, revealing a huddled Simon, cautiously rubbing his forehead and watching him.  
“What the hell?!” yelled Jack, staring down at Simon in disbelief. “What the fuck are you doing to me?”  
“I was feeding you,” replied Simon, looking wistfully at the coconut, while what remained of its content drained into the sand. Jack stared at the coconut with the same look of disbelief he previously graced on Simon.  
“What? Why?” he muttered, lifting one hand to run trembling fingers through his hair.  
“Because you couldn’t do it yourself.” Jack just stared at him so Simon elaborated. “You fainted Jack – you’ve been unconscious for three days.”  
“No I wasn’t!” Jack said, outraged. “I’m not some girl to have fainting spells.” Simon shook his head.  
“I didn’t say you were,” he replied calmly, “but you did. Ralph and I have been taking shifts watching over you. When you didn’t wake up after two days we thought you might not,” his voice dropped out and he switched his gaze to the sand, then suddenly sprang to his feet and made for the tent flap. “I better tell Ralph. He’ll be so excited to hear that you’re alright!” he said over his shoulder and quickly slipped out of sight. Jack watched him disappear, and long after he was gone. Finally he allowed himself to regain his seat on the raised mound of sand that served as his bed. All around him he saw random objects scattered around the tent; empty coconut shells, scraps of cloth and larger bits of fabric that must have served as blankets – all of which supported Simon’s story. Shakily he ran a hand across his face. He was gathering the energy to get up and leave the tent when Ralph’s head popped through the tent flap. Spotting Jack he grinned, and the rest of him folded in.  
“Well look who’s decided to wake up?” Ralph said coming over and taking a seat next to Jack. “If it isn’t our very own sleeping beauty.” Jack shoved him half-heartedly in the shoulder.  
“Shut up,” he muttered, then quieter, “what happened?” Ralph sighed.  
“I don’t know, one minute you were going off at Piggy and pushing him around, and the next you were down in the water – out cold.” Jack nodded, he remembered feeling uneasy about something, and he stretched his memory trying to recall what it might have been. Ah, yes, Pig-tits was getting mighty close to Ralph, putting his hands on him like he owned him or something. That didn’t sit well with Jack who never much liked to share with anyone – especially share Ralph.  
He distantly recalled feeling hot. Blood rushing through his body in a tremendous boil, like tumulus waves of cascading lava. He heard a whistling sound in his head, then the clicking of a pen, and then nothing – absolute silence. The wind, the waves, the crackling of the fire all ceased to exist at the same time. His vision narrowed like the shrinking credits in a Loony Toons cartoon and the last thing he remembered seeing were Ralph’s hands reaching out for him, and his panicked, frightened eyes.  
“I guess I must have caught something,” he muttered and Ralph nodded.  
“That’s what we thought, Simon and I. We were worried the other boys might get it too, but so far you’ve been the only casualty.”  
“Hey! I’m still here you know!” Jack cried.  
“And I’m very glad you are,” Ralph’s genuine smile forced any further protest from Jack into a giant sigh.  
“Who’s been running the show?” he asked instead. Ralph shrugged.  
“All of us,” he said, then thought better of it, “well not really. It’s mostly Roger, Maurice and I who’ve been doing the heavy lifting – hunting and such. Piggy’s been put in charge of the little-uns, and Simon’s been primarily looking after you, but also seeing to the pigs and fixing up any scrapes and bruises on the others.”  
“Seeing to the pigs?” Ralph glanced over at Jack, then appeared to have remembered something and grew excited.  
“Oh you don’t know! I forgot to tell you completely. It’s the most brilliant thing Jack! The first day after you fell we went hunting and stumbled on a sow with a litter of piglets. I thought how great it would be if we could breed and raise our own pigs so we wouldn’t go without if the hunting went bad.  
So the boys and I caught the sow and her litter and locked them up in the cave. We’ve been feeding and looking after them since, but the mean old sow won’t let anyone near her babies except Simon, so he goes up there twice a day to do the feeding and clean up.”  
“No way!” Jack’s disbelief brought a wider grin to Ralph’s face.  
“Yeah way,” he laughed, Jack joining him a moment later.  
“That’s brilliant,” he finally said after both of them settled down. “I can’t believe you did that!”  
“Well it wasn’t just me, all the boys helped. Roger and Maurice helped capture the sow and the piglets, and Piggy had the little-uns construct a wall out of boulders to keep the pigs in the cave.”  
“Yeah but it was your idea,” replied Jack, then sprung to his feet and headed for the entrance. “Well come on then,” he said over his shoulder, “I want to see it.” Ralph smiled and followed him out.

 

* * *

 

The trek to the cave took longer than anticipated. It was already afternoon when Jack made his miraculous recovery, and the moment they stepped from the tent he was swamped by a hoard of excited boys, big-uns and little-uns alike, all attempting to speak with him at the same time. By the time Jack managed to subdue the boys and reassure them that he was alright, another hour had past. They started tracking into the forest just as the sun dipped into the ocean turning the sparkling blue into Fanta orange.  
“I didn’t expect a welcome party,” muttered Jack, cutting his way through the dense foliage with a large stick he wielded about like a sword. “Where’re Roger and Maurice?”  
“Out hunting,” replied Ralph, following so closely behind Jack that now and again their arms would brush lightly together. “The piglets are still too little to eat on their own, so we need the sow. Until they’re weened we must hunt for meat.” They continued along in silence for sometime until Ralph quietly cut in. “Roger’s been real worried about you.”  
“You don’t say,” Jack wasn’t convinced. “I thought he’d be waiting for an opportunity to take over.”  
“Nah, he’s not a natural leader. He needs to defer to someone he respects or he feels overwhelmed by the responsibility. Besides he really cares about you.” Jack knew that. Roger had clung to him since the moment he first stepped into the academy – his uniform pressed with so much starch that his movements appeared stiff and jerky. Jack and Maurice were sitting on a wall, playing cards.  
“Tin man twelve o’clock,” muttered Jack, not looking away from his hand, but discreetly gesturing with a subtle tilt of his head. Maurice had no qualms about staring directly at the new arrival until he was standing in front of them.  
“Hi-yah,” the new boy said, dropping the heavy looking suitcase on the ground. Jack noted that it didn’t have any wheels, but the boy had carried it all the way across the yard without stooping – like it barely weighed anything at all.  
“Hi,” said Maurice and Jack nodded his head in greeting.  
“I’m looking for Maurice Claydon. The prefects pointed me this way.”  
“I’m Maurice,” Maurice turned back to the game and reached over to pick-up another card.  
“Well I’m Roger Stern, your new room mate.” Jack watched him fidgeting with a button on his jacket, rolling it anxiously back and forth between his thumb and finger. “I’m supposed to come over here to introduce myself before I head to the dorms.”  
“Well I think you’ve done that Roge,” said Jack, “you best be getting to those dorms now.”  
“Huh?” Roger visibly startled at being referred to so casually by a boy whose name he still didn’t know. “Ah yes, I probably should.” He looked around for a long moment but didn’t leave. With every moment passed his face grew redder and redder. Jack smirked.  
“Lost?” he asked.  
“No I’m not” Roger snapped, frustration morphing the tone of his voice from a slow country lilt into an aggressive bark. Jack didn’t reply, instead he slapped down a fan of cards in front of a startled Maurice.  
“Royal flush,” he said, gathering several dessert cards and two crumpled dollar bills and stuffing them in his pocket. Maurice looked devastated. “Come,” Jack leap from the wall, landing on his feet like a dainty cat. He smiled at Roger’s startled expression and began walking in the direction of the dormitory building, waving one hand over his shoulder. “I’ll take you there.” A moment later he could hear the larger boy struggling to catch up to him. From somewhere behind them Maurice was whining:  
“You’ve gotta give me a chance to win those back Jack,” and he smirked but didn’t look back.  
“The dormitories to the left,” he indicated with his hand when Roger was walking along side him, “are gender neutral. That’s where they keep all the boys who haven’t presented yet, usually grade 8 and below. The ones to the right are Alpha and Beta quarters. Omega dorms are the next building over across that field,” he pointed to a soccer field dividing the two buildings. “Probably to keep them from stinking up the place,” he laughed and Roger obediently laughed with him. This one was going to be easy. He could tell already. “How old are you?”  
“Thirteen in September.”  
“Huh I’m older then you! Never would have thought, what with how big you are and all. Almost the size of an ox – kinda look like one to,” he smirked, and watched Roger’s ears turn red.  
“I am pretty big,” he conceded, naturally deferring to Jack, “Pa’s from a working stock – generations of farmers make big lads, that’s what he says.”  
“He ain’t kidding,” laughed Jack. They entered the building and made their way down the hall to the last door on the right. “Here, that’s Maurice’s room.” Roger sat his suitcase on the ground and began patting himself down, searching for the key.  
“Looking for these?” A set of keys appeared in Jack’s hand, pinched between thumb and finger, swinging teasingly back and forth.  
“Hey, how’d you get that?” Roger sounded more surprised than angry which Jack took as a good sign. He shrugged his shoulders.  
“Nipped them from you.”  
“Why’d you do that?”  
“I don’t know, seemed like fun,” and the contagion of his smirk drew a smile from Roger. “Here,” he tossed the key at him, and walked around. “Get settled and then go back the way we came and you’ll see a great, big, ugly building the colour of piss – that’s where they serve dinner.” He threw a smirk over his shoulder, when this prompted another laugh from Roger. “You can sit with us if you want,” he said, as if anything but was ever an option – and from that night onward Roger’s only place had been at his side.  
His loyalty remained unwavering, even as Jack’s schemes grew more and more elaborate as the months went by. Jack was keen enough to stay clean of consequences, though frequently responsible for getting his companions into trouble. Not for the first time he wondered how he maintained such a devout fellowship.  
“Roger’s a good friend,” he muttered, cutting through a giant banana leaf. Behind him Ralph made an inquisitive noise.  
“What was that?”  
“Nothing.” They tracked the rest of the way in silence. When they finally got to the cave they found Piggy next to the wall. He was looking over the side and frantically waving his arms around.  
“No, no!” he shrieked. “Look this way you stupid pig – nothing to see there. I’m the one you want!”  
“What are you doing Piggy?” said Ralph. Piggy startled and almost fell in his hurry to spin around.  
“Oh Ralph, it’s you,” he noticed Jack standing beside Ralph but pointedly didn’t look at him. “I’m just distracting the sow. She’s in a frightfully bad mood today and even Simon can’t get her to calm down.”  
“Piggy!” came a frantic call from inside the cave. The bespectacled boy turned around and began hollering anew.  
“Over here! Over here!”  
Ralph and Jack exchange worried looks before running over to look behind the wall. Inside Jack could see a large, black sow running back and forth alongside the wall. She was making agitated grunts, her eyes rolling with fury. Behind her lay a decent amount of heaped palm leaves. In the centre of which Jack could make out half a dozen or so tiny black forms climbing over each other in a dense heap. Next to the nest lay a sizeable boulder with a hollow centre, filled to the brim with water – beside it stood half of a hollowed out tree trunk, that was filled with scraps of bananas and orange fruit, that clearly served as a troth. Next to it, huddled up against the wall and clutching a satchel made from one of the choir cloaks, sat Simon. He was trembling. His right arm was bruised below the elbow and had a small gash running across it that looked suspiciously like a bite mark.  
“Don’t worry Simon, we’ll get you out,” said Ralph and quickly leapt over the wall. The sow charged at him the moment his feet hit the ground, and Jack held his breath. Just when he thought Ralph was going to be mangled for sure, the loud echo of a rock hitting the cave wall rang out like a sharp bell. Jack saw Piggy pick up another rock and hurl it at the wall, then another. The noise distracted the sow long enough for Ralph to run past her and get to Simon. But the sow caught on fast. Realising that the stone throwing was coming from the same direction, the direction furthest away from her litter, she spun around and set her sight on the more immediate threat. The two crouching boys stared back at her. Simon gasped and drew even more into himself, while Ralph subtly moved forward so his body was almost entirely shielding Simon from view. Piggy, noticing at last that his plan was failing, dropped the rock he was holding and began pulling himself up and over the wall.  
Jack caught sight of a pile of small rocks lying beside his feet; they reminded him of bullets. He picked a handful of them off the ground.  
“Piggy get back here, and start throwing handfuls of these rocks against the wall, now!” he yelled, startling Piggy into compliance. Quickly the two boys began throwing stones at both sides of the cave, the resonating sound ringing out like a dozen rounds out of a Kalashnikov. The startled sow spun around in circles looking for danger. Taking advantage of her inattention Ralph grabbed Simon by the hand and pulled him towards the exit. They ran and scaled the wall before the sow caught sight of them, distracted as she was by the strange noise sounding danger from every direction.  
Breathing heavy, the two boys rested their hands on their knees and exchanged relieved smiles. Jack left Piggy to keep an eye on the sow that’d started rooting under the wall in an effort to get at them.  
“You alright?” he asked Ralph.  
“Better than dead,” he replied and Simon laughed.  
“We might need to reinforce that wall,” said Piggy walking over to them, “she’s real angry – could break out if she keeps at it through the night.” Ralph nodded.  
“Jack and I can come out here tonight after dinner and keep watch. That’s if you’re up for it.”  
“Sure am, I think I slept enough for the rest of my life,” he laughed and was happy to note the weary look on Ralph’s face morph into an easy smile.  
“Say that again when I make you go hunting with me tomorrow morning,” Ralph grinned.  
“Where are the hunters?” asked Jack, only just realising that he hadn’t seen any of his trackers since he woke up. The sun had already all but sat and the hunters should have been long back and cooking the kill by now, but there was no scent of roasting meat reaching them from the shore. In fact there was no smoke, which meant none of the older boys were at the camp, since the little-uns didn’t know how to make a fire.  
As if hearing him call, a tiered looking single file of exhausted boys emerged from the jungle, lead by Roger. Behind him two of the bigger boys carried the gutted carcass of a pig, and tailing them were a couple of smaller lads followed by Maurice. Roger was almost at the cave when he noticed Jack standing beside Ralph. He dropped his spear and hollered excitedly.  
“Jack!” he yelled, running over and embracing him in a giant hug that lifted him a foot of the ground. “You’re awake! We were so worried about you mate, after two days we thought you were a goner for sure.” Jack gave Roger an awkward pat on the back.  
“You can set me down now Roge,” but it took Roger another minute before he was ready to let Jack go. He was grinning wider than Jack had ever seen, and from behind him he could see the other boys whispering amongst themselves in excitement. Maurice stepped forward and clapped Jack on the shoulder.  
“It’s good to have you back Jack,” he said and stepped away. At least he knew the concept of personal space.  
“We should head on back and get the pig roasting,” said Ralph and lead the way back towards the shore. The rest of the boys followed. Jack noticed that Roger was unwilling to leave his side. They walked shoulder-to-shoulder all the way back, with Roger only stepping forward when he needed to cut down an obtrusive plant or help Jack over a fallen log. Jack resented that sort of coddling more than anything, but he understood it came from Roger’s worry for his health, and so held himself back from snapping.  
They reached the shore and the hunters, lead by Maurice, quickly began assembling firewood in the pit. The coals, still burning red from the previous cook, were easily flinted with dry grass and twigs; and within moment’s tall flames were licking the night sky.  
“We’re gonna have a feast tonight! We must celebrate your recovery,” hollered Roger and clapped Jack on the shoulder, albeit gently. Jack smiled and urged Roger to run ahead and help the others. Exhausted by all the attention he went to sit next to the water dam, under a palm tree, where he could watch the others without getting involved. He watched Simon treating his arm, before helping a few of the little-uns disinfect some minor scrapes with salt water and wrap them in make-shift bandages.  
Piggy had a dozen or so little-uns running around bringing firewood from the forest and gathering fresh banana leaves in lieu of plates. They appeared to be listening to him with outmost attention, clearly eager to please. How anyone had managed to train the little-uns, let alone someone like Piggy, was beyond Jack.  
“So when do we leave for the watch?” he asked Ralph when the pig was almost done roasting and the hungry boys were dancing around the fire and hollering excitedly. Ralph was filling empty coconut shells from the water dam and handing them out to the boys.  
“We’ll go as soon as we eat. I told Simon to pack a couple of choir cloaks for us to sleep in, some firewood, and some fresh banana leaves we can use to carry burning kindling over without hurting our hands.”  
“Sounds good.” They sat together in silence until Roger announced the pig was cooked. Jack was served first by a smiling little-un whose name Jack couldn’t remember. He thanked him anyways. Ralph was served after him and then Roger, Maurice, Simon and surprisingly Piggy.  
“I see Piggy’s made something of himself while I was out,” muttered Jack, and Ralph gave him a side-ways glance.  
“He helped a lot. I had to take your place with the hunters, and Simon looked after you. Piggy had to look after the little-uns, and he did a fine job of it to. They respect him now.” Jack snorted, unimpressed. “No, really, he helped keep everyone in line. He’s got good leadership skills.”  
“Yeah, for a pig.” Ralph threw the banana leaf he was using into the bushes.  
“What is your problem with him?” Ralph was aggressively rubbing his hands in the sand to rid them of oil. “He ain’t done nothing to you Jack since we got on the island, and even before that.” Jack shrugged and looked away.  
“I don’t know. He just rubs me the wrong way is all. Thinks to much of himself – like he’s smarter than the rest of us or something.” Ralph snorted.  
“He is smarter than the rest of us. He was in the top 5 percentile of the year level, top 10 at the academy.”  
“So what?!” Jack snapped venomously. “That’s book smarts. What good are they here?” Ralph startled at his outburst, but met Jack’s glare with one of his own.  
“He’s level headed. It’s good to have level headed people with you when you’re trying to recreate society – if you don’t have level headed people than you can end up with nothing but a bunch of –,” Ralph trailed off. He sighed and leapt to his feet, offering Jack a hand up.  
“What were you gonna say?” Jack asked, ignoring the offered hand.  
“It doesn’t matter. We better head over.”  
“No,” Jack grabbed Ralphs’ hand and pulled himself up so they stood face to face. He took a step forward until they were almost sharing the same air. “Say it,” he spat. Ralph leaned in, and for a second Jack thought he was going to kiss him.  
“Savages,” he muttered against his lips, “just a sorry bunch of savages.” Then he was moving away and past him and heading for the fire. He gathered some kindling with a banana leaf, picked up the satchel Simon had fashioned for him from one of the cloaks, and headed for the forest.  
Jack had a moment to catch his breath before his legs convinced him to follow Ralph. They walked in silence, Jack contemplating what prompted this strange reaction from a simple argument. An argument they’ve had several times in fact. His body was burning; tiny pin pricks setting his skin alight. He could almost hear the buzz of rushing blood in his ears. The tempests beat of his heart. What was wrong with him? Why did his head feel so tight and full, yet so empty of thought? Except one. He couldn’t stop thinking of Ralph. Ralph’s mouth, Ralph’s lips, Ralph’s hands, Ralph’s eyes, Ralph’s –.  
“Jack?” Ralph was looking at him curiously. “Did you hear me?” No he didn’t because Jack was sick. He must be to feel this way. He was still sick. He never got better.  
“What?”  
“We’re here,” and indeed they were. The entrance to the cave stood before them strange and gapping, like a cavernous mouth with layers of boulders stretched around it like rows of stubby teeth. “I think we should make the fire over there near those palms. It’s close enough to the cave for us to hear the pigs, but far enough that we don’t have to smell them.”  
“I still have to smell you.” Ralph grinned.  
“Nothing you can do about that.” Jack smiled back, and just like that the strange tension between them evaporated. They built the fire quickly so the kindling wouldn’t die out, then spent a few minutes blowing on the wood until they were sure it would hold for a few hours. Jack was spreading out one of the two choir cloaks on the ground when he saw Ralph approaching.  
“I have an idea,” he said. In his hand he clutched the other cloak. “It gets cold up here. How about we lay one cloak out for us to sleep on, and use the other like a blanket?”  
“You want to sleep together?” Ralph shrugged.  
“Why not? That way we can make the best use of the cloaks, and we’ll have body heat for extra warmth. Can’t afford you getting sick again, can we?”  
“I suppose not,” said Jack, spreading the cloak out to cover more ground. “I was only out a couple of days and now look at me, watching over pigs like some farmer.”  
“Hey,” groused Ralph, “it was a great idea. Admit it.”  
“I admit nothing.” Happy with the set up of the cloak Jack stretched out and put his hands behind his head. “Come on and lie down already.” Ralph did, and quickly covered them both with the second cloak.  
“You know the Captain died here,” said Ralph. Jack spun around until he was lying on his side facing Ralph.  
“He did not!” he gasped. “The Captain jumped of a cliff – we all saw it.”  
“Did not. We only saw his clothe.” Jack snorted.  
“Yeah because it’s a pretty big fall.”  
“Well he must have thrown his cloth over to get us off his track. But he hid here.” Then quieter, “Simon found him.”  
“What happened to him? Did the sickness take him after all?” asked Jack, curious beyond measure. He was certain the Captain had taken his own life, probably in some fit of delirium.  
“He was stabbed,” Ralph’s gaze fell to the side, “with a spear.”  
“You’re not saying –.”  
“I am.” Jack stared at Ralph for a long moment before finally turning over on to his back. He could still feel Ralph’s heavy gaze on the side of his face. It scorched him with shame.  
“If it was one of my boys, you know they didn’t mean it. They all think a monster lives on this island.  
“An idea you never discouraged.”  
“What good would it do? They’ll grow out of it eventually.”  
“It served your purpose, didn’t it?” Jack looked at Ralph.  
“What purpose?”  
“You wanted them to rely on you – to view you as their protector. A fearless leader who can keep them safe from the monster.” Jack turned fast, and then turned again until his back was facing Ralph. He didn’t need to have this conversation. To listen to Ralph’s stupid, accusing voice jabbering at him like some divine preacher.  
“So what? You’re saying this is my fault?”  
“No, of course not,” Ralph reached over and grabbed Jack by the shoulder. “I’m just saying it can be dangerous telling stories to little kids when they’re already frightened for their lives, abandoned on an uninhabited island.”  
“Well it’s done,” snapped Jack. “What do you want me to do about it? Talk to the little-uns tomorrow and tell them the monster’s not real? A lot of good that will do – they’re already convinced it stalks around the camp at night every time so much as a twig snaps.” He attempted to shrug the hand off, but instead of letting him go Ralph pulled at him until he was forced back onto his back. The grinning face of his best friend, hovering dangerously close again, replaced Jack’s view of the stars.  
“I think you’re right,” Ralph said. “Maybe they just need to grow out of it.”  
“Yeah,” he said, breathless once more. “We should get some sleep, yeah?” Ralph nodded and moved away. Jack took a quiet breath and closed his eyes. Considering how tightly wound he felt, falling asleep was surprisingly easy. Waking up, however, was decidedly not.  
Jack first regained consciousness when the warm puffs of breath against his cheek began to condense into fine, cool mist. His body felt heavy, like something was smothering him – pulling him into the ground. But the oddest sensation was the sound coming from somewhere above him – a strange cacophony of tuneless grunts.  
He opened his eyes to a strange sight. Ralph was laying on top of him, well not exactly laying, more like vigorously attempting to crawl through him, stuck hazardously between Jack’s legs. He had his head thrown back – face flushed dark and glistening with sweat in the pale glow of the moonlight.  
Now that Jack was completely awake he could feel a strange burn descending into the pit of his stomach. A full, itchy, tingle. A wet sensation was spreading like scolding water and cooling rapidly between his thighs. There was something hard grinding into that heat, forcing itself against the loincloth wedge into the split of his ass. The rubbing was encouraging the tingling to grown uncomfortably. Everything was too much and Jack was terrified.  
“Ralph stop,” he tried to say, but his voice came out as barely a whisper. Ralph moaned but appeared not to have heard him. “Stop, Ralph!” This time the words came out stronger, accompanied by a push to Ralph's shoulders. Ralph lifted himself away only to meet Jack’s frightened gaze. His eyes were black – pupils dilated so far that they consumed his irises, making him appear deranged.  
“Mine,” he growled in an inhuman voice. The voice triggered Jack’s flight response. He punched him hard in the jaw. Ralph grunted and reared back, giving Jack enough time to slip from under him. Quickly he made a dash for the cover of trees.  
He ran blind for what felt like hours, but must have only been minutes. Behind him, gaining with unnatural speed, he could hear the heavy breath of his pursuer. What happened to Ralph? Jack tried to think of anything that could have caused this. It was like he was possessed by some beastly power. A monster, like the one he conjured to keep the boys in line. Although this monster was not confined to his imagination – this monster was very real, and very hungry. Hungry for something Jack couldn’t understand, and he suspected neither could Ralph.  
The forest ran into a lake. The same lake they used to bathe, and gather water for the dam. It was a lifesaver, but now it stood in his way, preventing him from escaping danger. Quickly Jack wadded into the water, attempting to cross it as quickly as possible. Out run the beast. Save yourself.  
The rocks beneath his feet never felt so slippery before. One miss step and he was falling, submerged beneath the cool, clean surface of the lake. He reappeared with a gasp and spun around to check on the whereabouts of his pursuer. Ralph was there. Wading into the water, only a few meters away from Jack, and he still had so very far to go to reach the opposite bank.  
“Ralph, stop,” he pleaded. “Stop!” But Ralph kept coming and before long he was grabbing at him. Jack tried to push him away but only succeeded in pushing them both under water. When Ralph emerged Jack was already turning away and struggling onwards towards the shore.  
“Jack,” the voice behind him sounded different, nervous, “Jack, what’s going on?” Jack stopped and cautiously turned to look at Ralph. He looked scared. The insanity in his eyes was gone, and he looked like he was on the verge of tears. His shoulders were shaking, whether from cold or fear Jack didn’t know. Carefully, as if approaching a docile but dangerous dog, Jack waded over to Ralph’s side and reached out until his hand rested on his shoulder.  
“Are you ok?”  
“I don’t know,” Ralph sniffed and rubbed a wet hand over his eyes. “I don’t know what happened. What happened Jack?”  
“I don’t know,” Jack muttered pulling the other boy against his chest until Ralph’s face pressed against his neck. Hot tears burned tracks on his cool skin. “I woke up and you were on top of me. You were kind of deranged. Like a lunatic. Holding me down and rutting between my legs. Your body was hot. Everything was hot. Hot and wet.”  
Ralph’s shoulders began shaking violently and Jack lifted his hands to run them up and down over Ralph’s back. “I told you to stop. I felt sick, like I had a fever and needed to throw up at the same time. You wouldn’t stop, so I punched you in the jaw and ran. You followed me and that’s how we got here.” Ralph nodded.  
“I remember all that. I remember everything except how we were before the chase. What happened to me?”  
“I don’t know,” Jack didn’t know, but he suspected. He would have to consult with Simon on his theory, but if he was right the repercussions for him, and, for that matter, for the entire tribe, were too great to think about.


End file.
